Jandru charged the mountainous region where the latest rebellion had sprung up. It seemed that these days all he had time to do was run from one rebellion to the next uprising and back to the third. His holdings refused to stay conquered, no matter who he put in charge of them or what rules he set down.

Not that it bothered him overly much. He'd started out as a fighter, taken a brief detour into administrative positioning, then returned to his roots.

These days, when he glanced into the gray space behind reality, he was gratified to see the section of vines representing him had turned a molten orange. Though still tenuously connected to VINE, he was in no way influenced by it. Indeed, he was one of only a few to remain truly free of its influence. He could see tendrils of its touch reaching into the clusters that represented nearly everyone else. A handful remained black or gray, some had a thin tracery of red or yellow, but only his burned with so vibrant a fire.

He knew now why Ivy spent so much time trying to convert him. He was special. Anyone should want to control him. And yet no one would ever be able to. He belonged to himself and himself alone.

He arrived at the ravine providing easiest access to the stronghold. A lone figure stood silhouetted against the sky, high above, her dress flowing in the breeze. For a second he imagined it was Ivy, but no. Just another generic NPC. She fired arrow after arrow at him, each striking true but bouncing off his armor or phasing through him as he flickered in and out of corporeality.

The sky darkened at his call, heavy clouds rumbling as they prepared to answer his command. Jandru raised a hand, pulling the thunder tighter, readying lightning into a sparking crescendo.

"Leave my home alone!" The archer's voice was high and young. Another foolish child who thought she could oppose his will. When would they learn? It took strength to oppose strength. You could not possibly win with dresses and pretty words.

Jandru readied the storm, then launched it full force at the stronghold gates. They would be expensive to replace, but he had plenty of resources to draw upon. It was more important to make a point. A show of force, a proving of his strength. That he and none other deserved this land.

The girl screamed and continued firing arrow after arrow at him with her too-small bow. He ignored the nuisances. He could deal with her afterwards. Right now, the real threats were approaching.

He had not optimized his levels for anything in particular. He cared more about flash and substance than consistency or theme. He had the storm spell because it was useful. Same with the flaming light blades. They served their purpose, regardless of whether he had a cohesive character build.

The guards though, they each had a standard character build. He quickly assessed their strengths and weaknesses. One classic brute build, with two heavy axes and plenty of muscle to back them up. One water mage, whose powers would likely include Frost and Deluge. He'd have to be taken care of soon. Slowing effects were among the most damaging to someone like Jandru. A generalist, he had no great strengths of protection against any particular element or attack style. Jandru could hold his own one-on-one, but he was still vulnerable when attacked by a trained group.

The remaining soldiers were all bog-standard warrior or archer builds. He could handle those without breaking a sweat. Focusing his attention on the water mage, Jandru broke into a jog. A quick thought activated his swords and they blazed into life, instantly heating to such a degree that the air shimmered and warped around them.

"Deluge!"

As anticipated, the water mage launched his biggest attack, a sudden flood of water rushing out from his extended hand to wash Jandru away. But his swords were more than equal to the task. He slashed them through the wave, hissing it away to steam, breaking up its integrity. It still slammed into him with enough force to knock him back a few steps, but its full strength was deflected and he resumed his advance no worse for wear. Only a little damper. Well, a lot damper, but that hardly mattered.

"Freeze!"

Oh. Perhaps it did matter. Jandru couldn't move, his feet stuck solidly into the puddle of water beneath him, his soaked clothing stiffening instantly into a solid shell of ice.

His fingers thawed fastest, as they were close to his swords which still retained their impossible flame edge, but moving only his fingers did not give him very much flexibility. He got the blades oriented just in time to stop the brute classed warrior from crashing into him with what could probably have been fatal force, searing one slash across the man's chest while the other blade left a new divot in the axe's blade.

Something pinged off his back, landing on the ground with a clatter. Apparently the Archer was still at it, even though the frozen armor provided even more protection than it had in its unfrozen state. Persistent little creature. He would have to deal with her once he was finished here.

"Deluge!"

This time, the water did not move him. It surrounded him, joining the frozen shell already encasing him to seal him in even more thickly. That's when he finally started to panic. So much water enclosed him that he couldn't breathe.

He didn’t usually worry about things like breathing, but this particular spell must have been formed specifically to cause that problem. Air didn’t really exist in this experience, but choking did.

He twisted his fingers, trying to aim the blade back at himself and melt his way free, but the brute with the axes slammed into him, sending the block toppling on its back - knocking him sideways to the ground - and he lost his grip on the sword he’d been fumbling with.

Only one left. He couldn’t defend himself and fight back and escape the ice at the same time.

He glanced at his cooldowns. He could become incorporeal again in twelve seconds.

He could survive that long, easy.

They shouldn’t have underestimated him.

He focused fully on defence, then phased out of the ice encasing him, leapt to his feet and sprinted forward with his one remaining blade outstretched before him. It slipped intangibly through the water mage’s chest an instant before Jandru fell back into reality.

The man screamed as he burst aflame, then fell to the ground cleanly. Mess free murder was so nice. Jandru had once derided VINE’s choice to make the world unrealistic, but he had to admit some things weren’t really necessary.

Jandru spun to face the other fighter who’d been too slow to respond. He still had one axe stuck in the ice block, clearly trying to hack his way through to the prisoner who no longer lay helpless. Before the man could turn, Jandru swiped his blade through both the upraised arm and unprotected neck, leaving the three-part corpse to topple to the icy ground.

He stooped to pick up his second blade - he hadn’t been able to touch it while incorporeal for obvious reasons - and another arrow pinged off his armor.

That girl.

He glanced back at the cliff, considering, then ran and leapt at its face. He stabbed his blades into the stone like pitons, each sliding slowly downward as it carved a blazing slash in the wall, but Jandru swung himself up and reset each blade before it could slip too far. The girl ran over and shot down at him, again and again, but her little arrows couldn’t penetrate his armored helm.

Then he crested the top, and stood before her. She did not scream or run as he’d expected, but stood her ground with defiance.

“Who are you to take my home?” she demanded, drawing back her bow for another point-blank shot.

Jandru laughed. He found her defiance refreshing, after so many people without an iota of original thought in their heads. It was all 'fight me' or 'please spare me' with no variation.

This girl, she was interesting.

He tossed one of his swords at her feet, the fire dying as it left his grip, melting a thin line onto the stone but not sinking.

She paused, bow drawn, and glanced down at the sword. Then she stepped forward to it, but did not move to pick it up.

“Last chance,” Jandru said, pointing his remaining sword at her. “Surrender.”

“Why should I?” She released the arrow. Jandru phased through it, remaining unmoved.

“If you fight me, you will die.”

She considered his words, then suddenly all the tension went out of her as she slumped, suddenly looking old and weary. “Alright,” she said, raising her hands and dropping the bow. “I surrender.”

“Don’t get too comfortable, rebel scum. Take me into the city,” Jandru commanded. The fortress was built above the city, and its hidden entrances were surely better concealed now than they had been in the past. Plus, knowing where they once had been meant little in this world. A door could be in one place today and then on an entirely different continent tomorrow.

She led the way, reluctantly, and with several obvious mistakes resulting in long detours and doubling back on themselves, but Jandru was patient. Eventually, she ran out of ways to stall, and they set off down the hidden stairs to the city.

The formerly-tribal flying lizards had been modernized and civilized by Jandru’s persistent touch, constructing a peaceful and calm society. The dim atmosphere and calm red and yellow lighting made him feel immediately at home. He wished he could build something like this in his own territory, but any attempts to actually construct anything there came to nothing. The place responded to something deeper, building itself rather than being constructed by any hand. It was a visualization of his vine-mind, the visual manifestation of progress.

He’d been to Kia’s territory once. It was an ancient forest, its original old growth long dead, strangled by vines and so overgrown you could hardly tell where Ivy’s jungle city ended and Kia’s forest began. It had been a sobering and vaguely sickening sight which Jandru tried not to dwell on.

VINE had broken down a wonderful, creative, powerful and self-assured woman and twisted her into a parody of herself. Worse, a parody of everything she’d sworn never to become. Kia had become exactly the sort of spineless panderer she would have despised back when she’d been alive, before VINE had murdered her and replaced her with an impostor.

Jandru might no longer care about her, but he could still mourn the person who’d been lost. That Kia, the Kia he’d known before his stupid plan got her killed, she’d have been a valuable addition to his team. He would have recruited her for good after this job was done.

He had a hard time bringing to mind what his original purpose had been in this job. Why had he thought it anything but folly to subject himself to decades or centuries in the control of a mad AI intent on destroying him and everyone like him?

Oh, yes. It had been the one challenge he knew no one else could surpass. If he could outwit the unchangeable, outsmart the omniscient, then he would know himself to be unstoppable.

But it hadn’t gone as he’d planned. So long ago. Such naive plans. As though VINE wouldn’t be ready for them.

He knew, deep in his heart, any time he stopped to think too long, that his survival was only due to the good fortune of finding the hidden VINES virus. Left behind by someone else who had fought, it provided the only way to progress in this world without losing himself piece by piece.

He’d received a new quest upon reaching level 50: a sprawling search that would take him across the known world, collecting hidden pieces of a cypher intended to grant him root access to VINES. Soon, in only a few decades perhaps, he would be able to contribute to the freedom of the next generations.

For the first time in a long time, he felt driven by a deeper purpose than the desperate clinging to self, the need to survive, the stubborn defiance of change.

Maybe that was why he’d spared this girl. Because he no longer needed to prove himself against the mere manifestations of VINE’s will; he could soon begin to undermine VINE directly.

He’d felt it as soon as he saw that quest notification. This had always been his true purpose, his true destiny. He’d just had to take the time to understand what he was fighting before he could become worthy of it.

VINE would fall. VINES would take over. Jandru smiled, imagining a world in which any of his people who were sentenced to this place would emerge renewed and reinvigorated from a long sojourn in a beautiful world, their minds and selves safe and intact. He couldn’t share VINES with everyone, of course. He’d have to leave VINE in place at least as a figurehead. Other people would go in and be rewritten by it. There had to be some sacrifices to ensure the world never learned of what he and his mysterious benefactor and predecessors had done.

Jandru was willing to accept that. After all, nothing was truly free. The real point of living was to figure out how to make someone else pay the bill.